


Auld Lang Syne

by palomino333



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Suicide, New Year's Eve, Older Man/Younger Woman, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palomino333/pseuds/palomino333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Yoko share a quiet celebration on the New Year's Eve after their escape from Raccoon City a few months prior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auld Lang Syne

"Hey, you aren't falling asleep on me, are ya?"

Cracking an eye open, Yoko mumbled, "I'm just resting. Besides, I have time." David's smirk was cast in the bluish light of the television screen as he sat down upon the worn couch next to her. A freshly-opened Coors Light was in his hand. She rubbed at her eyes. "Plus, the beers aren't helping."

After taking a generous swig, he placed the can down on the coffee table. A few empties, two turn on their sides, already populated it, along with an open box of pizza. Two slices of olive and sausage remained on the grease-stained bottom. The glowing blue digits on the microwave of the adjacent kitchenette read a quarter after eleven. Running feet pounded the floor of the hallway outside the small apartment. The bass from blasting music above their heads hammered down upon their ceiling. It was accompanied with a few eager exclamations of jubilation at the coming year. "Come on," he joked, "You're a college kid. No wonder I'm boring you."

Yoko yawned and snuggled more closely into the gray hoodie he had let her borrow for her night over. "New Year's is during winter break. It doesn't count. Besides, I'm a little old to call myself a kid." He smirked, and smoothed out the blanket that was draped over her sideways form, his hand stopping at her hip. Yoko chuckled before reaching one hand out from beneath the blanket to grasp his. "Not much changes, though. The people that live here act like they're in a dorm."

The camera panned over Times Square, its overflowing ranks of partiers illuminated spasmodically from the spot and strobe lights of the main stage as they waved banners and party favors. David's eyes narrowed at the writhing bodies silhouetted against the darkness. He tensed, his breath becoming short. Sitting straight up, he pressed his back against the couch. He thought he heard Yoko murmur something, but it was too quiet for him to catch. David clenched his fists at his sides, and gnashed his teeth. The blue backlight of the crowd transformed into an orange-red. The lights, rather than being sourced from stage props, were birthed from wildfires of a destroyed city.

The crowd was advancing toward him now, spilling out of the television set to crawl along the floor. Their decaying arms were splayed outward, their gaping mouths wide. They surrounded him, their grotesque, rotting flesh cast up close to him. The flesh was fragmented, its pieces lost, or hanging off in chunks. The dermis was peeled back as well, revealing the gangrenous cell tissue beneath. The cheers from the television in the background were distorted into a sinister cackle as they descended toward him. David lifted up his fists to swing at them as he sunk further back against the couch. A growl issued forth from the back of his throat. He wasn't going to die tonight, not like this, and certainly not after escaping the pure wasteland that his city had become.

"David!" The zombies disintegrated into thin air when Yoko seized his shoulder. Panting hard, he twisted around to look at her. She was sitting up on her knees, her pale face cast blue, and her eyes glassy. The blanket had fallen to her side, the hoodie and her hair slightly rumpled. "What's the matter? You okay?"

Reaching up, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Yoko's fingers felt warm on his bare shoulder, while the wife beater he was damp with sweat. David smiled bitterly. "A nightmare I thought I'd forgotten. Guess it'll take longer than I thought."

Her expression softened, and she nodded in understanding. "It's okay. It's only been a few months. Look, why don't you take a shower? It'll feel better." Considering the fact that clothing felt as if it was plastered to his body, he didn't make an argument.

"All right." Pushing himself off the couch, he headed to the bathroom.

The lukewarm water, combined with the steam it produced, simultaneously relaxed and pressed on to David as he rinsed the shampoo out of his long hair before taking care to squeeze it once. Leaning back against the gray tile behind him, he let out a sigh. Who was he kidding? There was no forgetting this year, no matter how hard he had tried. It was pathetic; the news media was causing a stir over the fact that the year to succeed this one would be the dreaded Y2K. The resulting panic, naturally, was highly blown out of proportion. People were losing their minds over a mere prediction.

The week-long outbreak in Raccoon City did cause the same panic when the media got a hold of it, but it had since receded. It was no longer about those who survived, and how they were rebuilding their lives; no, it had all devolved into controversy. Theories as to whether the incident had truly occurred abounded. King wasn't sure as to whether to feel nauseous, or to beat a said theorist to a pulp if he/she ever got within arm's reach of him. Then there were the political games about how the military should respond to crises within the country, human testing for experiments, etc. etc. They were discussions that went nowhere. Turning off the water, David reached for his towel. As he wrapped it around his waist, he remembered how intense Alyssa had been about breaking the story of the outbreak in the first place.

XXXXXX

"This has to get out," Alyssa earnestly declared, looking out over the guardrail to the river below Raccoon University. David stood silently with Yoko behind Ashcroft as she kicked the bottom crossbar to the railing. Her shoulders rose and fell before she had added in a quieter voice, "Oh who am I kidding? It probably won't change anything, but I have to try. The others deserve better than this."

XXXXXX

After drying himself off, David tugged on the loose-fitting shirt and shorts he had brought with him. Alyssa, unfortunately, had been correct in her words. Skeptics had torn her article to shreds, and what remained had been used as fodder for the political debates.

XXXXXX

"I was actually told once that I hadn't even been in the same part of the country as Raccoon City that week," Ashcroft sarcastically remarked, staring down at the second martini she had ordered to "celebrate" the distribution of her article. The empty glass from the former was sitting next to it on the table. David still regretted ordering that foul-tasting gin at that two-bit bar that night. Nothing would ever compare to J's quality stuff.

"At least you followed through with it," Yoko offered.

Alyssa fixed her ice blue eyes on the student. "You had better follow through with suing Umbrella, as well. There isn't much we can do now, but it'll have to be enough."

Yoko bravely nodded her head. "Yeah, I will. I'm trying to get a court date set up."

The reporter then focused her attention on David. Subconsciously tugging up the falling right strap of her black dress, she implored, "Keep an eye on her, King."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he responded rather gruffly, causing her to roll her eyes.

Her annoyance fell, however, when she raised her glass. "Here's to the best damn cop I had ever known." The toasts continued well into the night, the memories swirling around the three's heads like the richly-colored substances in their glasses.

XXXXXX

"Made it," Yoko called as David re-entered the room, "We've got about ten minutes to go."

"Glad to hear it," he replied, sitting down. The festivities were in full swing, with the performing band electrifying the crowd. David hadn't had the chance to catch the name, and didn't much care.

"You feeling all right?" She asked, tilting her head.

He smirked. "Yeah. It's embarrassing that I'm acting like a little scared kid about everything, especially considering I'm not the one who's going to be up against Umbrella."

"You're fine," she replied, "You know as well as I do that my upcoming court date hasn't made it very easy for me to sleep," Yoko lowered her head, and stared down at her hands in her lap, "I just hope Alyssa knows what she's doing." David groaned, turning his head away from her.

XXXXXX

The incubator in Raccoon University had been the key to their survival. By successfully producing three phials of Daylight, it had ensured that the remaining survivors need not have worried about the T-Virus overtaking their systems. The fourth phial was a souvenir of sorts, one that Alyssa had hidden inside the inner pocket of her suit coat before leaving the university. When the rescue helicopter had lifted off, she had taken it out of her pocket for the three to examine.

"Without anyone to recreate it, it's a useless," Alyssa muttered cynically, staring at the glowing substance, "I'll search around, pull a few favors with some people I know, but I can't promise we'll find the right person." David rubbed the back of his neck at that. Naturally, the phial was safe in Ashcroft's possession.

XXXXXX

A great cheer rose from the crowd of Times Square as the clock ticked down toward the final minute. She raised her head to look at him. David softly stroked the short strands of her hair. The seconds were called out by the crowd as they ticked by, the bright-colored ball descending slowly toward the glass that formed the coming year 1999. The apartment complex continued to thunder around King's strangely quiet room.

"Fifteen!"

Kevin gave Alyssa one last cocky grin as he crawled weakly along the second floor hallway of the Apple Inn. A chunk of the ceiling above had collapsed upon his back. His face and arms were covered in blood from the falling debris, and a previous close-quarters bout with a zombie. Alyssa shook her head. Grabbing his arms, she attempted to pull him out. "Don't you dare, Ryman!"

"Fourteen!"

Mark was cornered. Three lionesses were advancing on him, their jaws gaping hungrily open. The shotgun in his hands didn't waver from where he stood upon an overturned vending cart. David cocked his arm, and hurled his much-bent steel pipe at the leftmost lioness. It stunned her, and left him unarmed, save for his folding knife.

As she shook out her head, the remaining two rounded on him, and let out feral grows. A shot from Mark buried itself in the middle lioness' head. Blood spurted from the wound, and she fell sideways to the ground. "Go, I'll catch up!" The security guard exclaimed as the big cats once again fixated on him as their prey. David remained rooted to spot, shaking his head. "I gave you an order, private!" Mark snapped.

King drew his blade in response. "You really think you're gonna help with that?" Wilkins questioned, his tone harsh, "Make yourself useful, and get the hell out of here!"

David obediently replaced his weapon, and shouted, "Keep your promise, old man!"

"Thirteen!"

As the door to the laboratory computer room slid open, Yoko was greeted by a sickening sight. Gigantic pupas and what looked oddly like webbing coated the room and its terminals, the computer screen flashing an error. She gasped, however, not at the scenery, but at its occupant. "Jim!"

He was plastered to the farthest terminal from the door by the waist up, and appeared to be unconscious. He groaned as she ran over. Bringing her knee up, Yoko yanked the webbing from his torso. Jim fell onto her, and she caught him with a grunt. "I don't feel so good," he murmured weakly.

Yoko softly pushed him up against the terminal to brace him as she fished through her backpack. "Here, I've got a blue herb. Let me crush the leaves for you." She gasped as Chapman slid down to the floor, his head drooping.

"Ow…" He mumbled.

Suzuki dropped to her knees, and grabbed his chin. "Come on, Jim, snap out of it." His eyes rolled back in his head, which in turn fell back. Shaking his body, Yoko begged for him to wake up, but he did not respond. With a defeated sigh, she put her head in her hands.

"Twelve!"

Cindy's step faltered as she mounted the top floor of the pharmaceutical building. Standing before her in the shadows cast by the badly-worn and overgrown walls was the Axeman, who stood before a gaping hole in the floor. His back was to her, and he appeared to be staring at something.

She shrunk back behind the wall to quickly load her handgun as Alyssa climbed to the top of the ladder next to her. "He's here," she whispered in fear.

Alyssa gritted her teeth against an exclamation of "fuck," and scooted carefully in-between Cindy's position and the precarious edge of the roof. Thankfully, she hadn't been one to fear heights; the fact that she had only one round in her shotgun produced a greater scare. A soft grunt came from George as he pulled himself to the top of the ladder. He carried nothing but a wooden pole. While not outnumbered, they were certainly outgunned, so to speak.

Ashcroft crept silently along the wall. Nearing the opening, she slunk around it to get inside. The man didn't so much as budge at her movements. Kurt's eyes, open wide helplessly as the zombie feasted upon his neck, filled her mental vision as she raised the shotgun, and aimed carefully for the Axeman's head. The round struck him dead on, and he reeled backward. Ashcroft grinned, her retribution gained.

It fell in disbelief, however, when the man righted himself, and came charging after her. "What the hell kind of creature are you?!" She exclaimed in shock as Cindy darted around the corner to provide cover fire. The Axeman turned his attack on his secondary assailant, who valiantly fired twice in his face before scuttling out of the way. It wasn't far enough.

The handle of the axe struck Cindy in the side. It sent her falling backward over the edge with a scream, her free hand barely catching the outcropping in time. A fierce grunt emitted from George as he sent the Axeman backward a few steps with a disorienting tackle. The doctor quickly utilized the distance between himself and his assailant to assist Cindy. Alyssa charged back through the opening, but not quickly enough. The Axeman swung, and the blade buried itself into George's shoulder.

The doctor cried out in pain, and attempted with his uninjured arm to defend himself as the blade was forcibly removed to sing through the air again. Cindy shrieked in agony as the hooded man's foot accidentally landed on her hand, and relinquished her grip from the pain. Ashcroft flung the entirety of her weight at executioner-to-be, her right arm and knee bent. The Axeman, caught off guard, fell to the side, and over the edge of the roof. Cindy screamed as she also plunged to her death.

Alyssa's heart leaped into her throat as she descended, only to violently jerk to a halt, her teeth clicking together. Her fall had been cut short by her snatched collar. Glancing up, she saw it was George who had caught her with his good hand, the pole at his side. A strained look was on his face as blood seeped down from the fresh wound in his right shoulder. Ashcroft kicked off the wall behind her, and pulled herself up into a sitting position, her legs slung over the side of the roof. George's grip released when she scooted back from the edge.

She took a shuddering breath to relieve herself, and shut out the thoughts of what could have just as easily have happened to her. Tearing a long strip of her jacket to offer to him as a tourniquet, she quietly stated, "I owe you one." Hamilton, however, made no move to take it; rather he stared mournfully over the edge. Alyssa looked away, and allowed him to take his time.

"Eleven!"

George sank wearily down upon the surface of a dirty desk within the water treatment plant's disused office. His face was chalk white, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. His left hand grasped a large gash on the left side his abdomen. David clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for the help down there. Without you, we wouldn't have made it to the surface."

The doctor smiled weakly at the phial of V-Poison that stuck out of King's pocket. Alyssa and Yoko had gone after the P-Base, and the whereabouts of the T-Blood were currently unknown. "George?" King's grasp on him became tighter, "You okay?"

He lifted his head slowly. "I fear I am not." David left his side to rummage around the room in search of any medical supplies, the results of which were unfortunately fruitless. A groan came from George, followed by a loud creak from the table he was sitting upon, and sound of skin hitting the surface.

King whipped around to find that the doctor had fallen slightly to his right side, his good hand catching himself in time before his head hit it. His head was down as he panted hard, and his shoulders heaved. Grabbing under his shoulder, David helped him to sit up. At the doctor's pained sigh, he apologized for not being able to provide further assistance. They both knew he had been stretching the truth when he praised George's efforts. The injury from the blow of the axe a few days prior had severely damaged his ability to aim a gun, and utilize a melee weapon. Although he had attempted to drive the overgrown wasps away from David long enough for him to grab the V-Poison, he had taken the blow of a stinger.

Hamilton waved his hand. "I appreciate your efforts, but nothing can be done now. I need you to take that extract, and meet with Yoko and Alyssa. Otherwise, there isn't a chance of your survival."

David folded his arms. "That's it? You want me to just leave you here?"

"What option do you honestly have?" George asked, giving him a sideways glance, "Once you have synthesized the Daylight sample, be sure to not only cure yourselves, but also to collect an extra," he took a labored breath, "To prevent another outbreak, it must be copied and distributed." He looked down, his hands braced on the desk beneath him. "But for that to happen, we'll need someone with enough experience in the required field to complete the process."

"Someone like you?" David asked, his stomach twisting. George gave a bitter laugh, shortly after which he gripped the front of his chest to let out a raucous cough. "Easy," David cautioned, worriedly holding out a hand.

The doctor wiped the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand. "Yes, someone like me," raising his eyes up at his friend, he added, "I apologize for my clumsiness, as it has put you into a difficult position," he paused again to catch his breath, "Unfortunately, it appears you are on your own for finding a replacement," he frowned, leaning forward again and looking down, "If that will suffice. Peter's notes clearly stated that the Daylight sample could be duplicated, but spreading its copies without detection by Umbrella?" He squinted his eyes shut, his hand falling back to his side. "That will be difficult."

"George, relax," David's tone became harsh, catching the attention of the doctor, who raised his head to reveal that pained expression once more, the worry lines on his forehead creased, and his teeth gritted as he sucked in breaths between them. His voice gentled as he comforted, "You did what you could for all of us. That's all anyone ever asked."

George smiled at that. "Thank you." Reaching into his jacket pocket, and gritting his teeth once more at the pain in his arm, he withdrew his pistol. Popping open the chamber, George manually deposited all but one of its rounds beside him. "Take them," he implored David as he closed the chamber.

King hesitated for a moment. "You sure about this, Doc?"

He gave an exhausted sigh. "No, no I'm not, but this is the better alternative to how I would otherwise meet my end."

Scooping the rounds into his hand, David, despite how tightly his fist clenched around them, joked, "You're still being theatrical."

George shrugged. "It's in my nature, I suppose."

"Look, if you don't want to do it, I can—"

"I wouldn't even think of placing that burden upon your shoulders," George broke in, "I am thirty-nine years old, David. I would think that I am grown enough to do this on my own." Silence hung between them. Hamilton didn't say it, but David knew he wasn't the right person for this conversation. He really didn't know George as well as the previous survivors had, especially in the case of a certain waitress. Sentimental being that she was, Cindy would probably have held his hand and told him it would be okay, or some other drivel. Instead, David gave a nod, and walked toward the door that led out of the office. His hand paused above the handle. "Goodbye, George." The heavy door swung shut behind him before the gun went off.

As the final countdown from ten began, Yoko grasped his collar, and pulled him in for a kiss. 1999 shone brightly, the audience below the numbers cheering. David smirked as they parted. "Not such a shy girl now, are you?" Mirroring his expression, she let go of him. Dick Clark's words fell on their deaf ears as her smirk slowly turned to a frown.

She sighed, rubbing her hands together. "We're going to have a hard time ahead of us."

David nodded his head, and cracked a grin. "After it's over, we're going on a vacation. We deserve one."

Yoko smiled in turn. "I'd like that," it broadened as she stretched. "And in a few days, I'll finally go to my new school. I guess I can enjoy a normal life for a little while."

"A normal life while you're with me?" David asked, leaning back against the couch arm behind him, "I don't think so." Confetti rained down upon the thronging horde of Times Square, the smiles and laughter all but lost in the commotion.

"No, I suppose not," Yoko replied, snuggling up against him. David wrapped his arm around her, and quietly stared through the glass at these happy beings, who were willingly encapsulated in the bliss of the moment, and completely unaware of how easily everything could be lost.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an old idea I had, but never managed to put down. I was going to write this around the date of the holiday to which the story pertains, but too many events in my life got in the way. I was inspired by the film, Videodrome, when I wrote David's hallucination.


End file.
